


Lady Luck

by Goshizaki_Jun



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Adoption, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, How Do I Tag, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Orphanage, Orphans, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Panic Attacks, Self-Doubt, Self-Esteem Issues, Tags Are Hard, Violent Thoughts, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:55:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27877949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goshizaki_Jun/pseuds/Goshizaki_Jun
Summary: It has been two years, two years since he had last seen a proper place to call home. And Hitoshi was tired. The orphanage workers always told him to hope and pray to be lucky, and get adopted by a nice family. But he and Lady Luck has a.. complicated relationship.
Relationships: Original Female Character & Original Male Character, Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Original Male Character & Original Male Character
Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041165
Kudos: 1





	Lady Luck

**Author's Note:**

> Please be aware that this fic has semi-dark themes and a few implications regarding childhood trauma, and trauma in general.

It has been two years, two years since he had last seen a proper place to call home. And Hitoshi was tired. He went from house to house with promises of love and care, only ending up to return back at the orphanage with sighs and sympathy from the workers there, it became so often that the workers had to warn his future ‘families’ about what he had gone through, so often that it became a running joke among the children, particularly the older kids. There was a bet among them to see how long the next family would last before returning him, like some unwanted package that looked nothing like what they had expected. A disappointment, in simpler words.

In the two years he had been in the orphanage, he had gone through more families than the fingers on both his hands. They had complained, yelled, screamed, and even cried at how ‘difficult he was being.’

It wasn’t _his_ fault their children were being too invasive, it wasn’t _his_ fault they were being too forceful with their affection, it wasn’t _his_ fault he acted the way he does, it was a habit, to shut himself in, to not speak for days, even weeks, on end, and it was a habit for him to daydream, to space out and imagine a world where everything was still fine and perfect for him. It wasn’t _his_ fault.

Today was his birthday, and he was told a couple was going to visit the orphanage, and if he were lucky, they would probably pick him, as long as he wishes and hopes, he’d be lucky to be adopted on his birthday. But lady luck was rarely on his side, not that he could blame her. He didn’t deserve it. Stepping out the room he and a few other kids shared, he fiddled with the hem of his sweater, a few strands of hair falling in front of his face.

With a soft sigh, he continued walking towards the common area of the orphanage, preparing himself for the let down of a birthday, watching a happy couple with a new child leave the orphanage. Sometimes he thinks why hadn’t they thrown him out ages ago, he was obviously giving himself a bad reputation, and it was going to affect the orphanage sooner or later.

Lined up with the  other children, he easily towered over half of them, making him visible to the visitors. Why hadn’t he stood next to the other tall kids? That way he wouldn’t be as noticeable. Regret was already pouring into his stomach. He didn’t dare try to meet the visitors’ eyes, he already feels like everyone’s eyes were on him. It made him sick.

From the corner of his eye, he could see Miya, one of the workers, shake her head with a small frown directed at him before greeting the couple with a bright smile. Hitoshi proceeded to zone out at this part, having memorized the script of how these visitations usually go. He wanted to go back to his room, to read his book in peace, and not have to deal with rejection again.

“-and this is one of our older kids, Hitoshi Sasaki! Say hi, Hitoshi!”

Said boy froze and glanced up, giving a small shy wave at the couple who he had just now seen, and felt his heart stop. Why were they smiling at him like that? He didn’t like that they were looking at him with such fond eyes, looking at one another and talking through their glances and facial expressions. It felt like his whole world was crashing down again, why did it have to be him? And why today of all days? It seems like Lady luck didn’t like him, not one bit. Though, they did look fairly familiar, like he had seen them on TV.

He looked back down at his shoes, now picking at the skin around his nails as his hands sweat in nervousness, he could already see the disappointment in their eyes after a week of having him, already tired of his antics and habits. He could feel the sympathetic looks from the workers. He could hear the soft calls of ‘next time’s and ‘I’m sorry’s of the people around him. And he already knew who the winner of the betting pool, it was Ryouta, one of the more noisier ones around his own age.

When they were all excused, and the ‘interviews’ for each kid had begun, where the parent or parents were going to socialize and get to know each kid in their natural environment, but that was how Ryouta described it, he was really fond of nature documentaries, Hitoshi just know remembered.

Hitoshi sped towards the corner of the room, where he usually and often resides. Enough so that it was dubbed “Hitoshi’s corner,” for how much of his stuff was laid and forgotten there. A few books scattered around the beanbag, a table specially set up beside it, holding up pencils, crayons, paper, and all sorts of crafting materials, though, the scissors were m issing, being placed out of reach just as a safety precaution. 

Time flew by quickly, and before Hitoshi could realize it, the couple was already by his side, making small talk, to which he responded with short, court answers, with small hums and grunts accompanying it. This was usually how he drove away any families who seemed interested in adopting him, and it often worked. But not this time, they were patient, and continued on with their questions.

“So, what’s your favorite color?” “Gray” “That’s nice, I like red!”

“What’s your favorite animal?” “Cats are nice... but.. penguins are also cute..” “Penguins? Well, they  _are_ really cute..”

“What are your hobbies? You seem to like arts and crafts.” “...yeah..”

Like a one-sided game of 20 questions, they liked to input their own answers to the questions, since they eventually caught on that Hitoshi wasn’t going to ask any questions of his own. But they didn’t leave, why hadn’t they left yet? Why were they still talking to him? It was nerve-racking. By the time of their 23 rd question, Hitoshi’s hands were already shaking, making the sketches in his notebook all wobbly and off. It seems like they caught on though.

The woman, a short lady with short, strawberry blonde hair, pale skin and blue eyes, gently set her hand on the side of the table. She seemed calm, neutral, and soft, completely balancing out her husband, a young man with dark brown hair, slightly tanned skin, and light brown eyes, who was fairly extroverted, outgoing, and really, really talkative. It seemed like a stereotypical straight couple, if Hitoshi had to be honest. It seemed too fake to him, but he wasn’t going to mention that.. not yet, at least.

He looked at the woman’s hand on his desk with a tense stare, before looking back up to meet her eyes with furrowed, but confused eyes. Hitoshi felt his hands stop shaking, but they were still clammy. Her pale blue eyes seemed more vibrant up this close, and it wasn’t really hard to see that they, or at least the woman, to be from a foreign country.

Her soft voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through ski-... like a knife through softened butter. She spoke, “Are you okay, Hitoshi?”

Hitoshi looked at her with wide eyes, before nodding and turning back to his notebook, slouching over it and holding his pencil tight between his fingers, not wanting to ruin his drawing even more, or worse, smudge it. The man raised a brow at this and leaned over to the side, Hitoshi took notice of this, but decided to just leave him alone, but then the man proceeded to gape and continue staring at his notebook, fear exploded right inside of Hitoshi.

Did he do something wrong? Did he accidentally offend him? Oh god, what did he do?

The man glanced over to the woman with wide eyes, moving his head towards Hitoshi, making silent conversation with her, and she  _understood_ what he was saying, making gestures of her own as well. Maybe this was a sign that they weren’t going to choose him? Hitoshi could only hope, he doesn’t think that they’ll be this patient with him after they adopt him. When the couple stood up, he couldn’t help but stifle a flinch and glance up at them, but immediately looking back down at his notebook and hide his drawing.

It was a drawing of a grey dress with a cake skirt made out of a translucent material, but it was layered enough for it to become opaque. A capelet of the same material was attached to the straps of the dress, but it was left more translucent to compliment the corset-like bodice of the top. It looked fairly nice so far, but he couldn’t even dare try to think about lining it, he’ll definitely smudge the ink. Just... thickening the lines would be goo d enough for now, and maybe he’ll redraw it again when he gets better.

By the time he had finished coloring the piece, the sun was nearly setting, painting the sky orange with soft pink and yellow hues, and the orphanage workers were already calling them in to gather in a straight line. The couple had already decided, and Hitoshi was just praying that it wasn’t him. He’d rather have an average day for a birthday than a birthday where he was adopted, but then returned a few weeks later. He didn’t want to become a return package again.

Though, Hitoshi was never lucky, was he?

When the couple answered with his name, you could see all the life drain from his eyes, like he had become an emotionless husk in a split second. It was worrying, to say the least. Miya told him with a smile to go pack his bags, and this family would be different, and Hitoshi only hoped. As he climbed up the stairs to his room, he felt his legs grow heavy with each step, ignoring the congratulatory cheers the younger kids gave him, ignoring the talk of the betting pool among the older kids whispered amongst themselves, he could only hear the growing loudness of the ringing in his ears, like when a patient flatlines in the hospital, and the doctors and nurses around them rush to try and save them.

Why was he panicking, anyway? He had gone through this numerous times already, why is he acting like this? Shouldn’t he be used to it? Maybe because they were infinitely more patient and sincere with him, keeping up conversation when he offered nothing but short, straightforward answered, and the way the woman looked at him with pure concern... maybe they were different.

Hitoshi had finished packing all his things, packed and organized neatly, separated into different compartments of his suitcase and backpack, he even has a duffel bag on him, containing all the stuffed animals he had. Slinging the backpack over both his shoulders, he stood back up, slouching, as he turned to the door.

Only to be scared out of his pants to see Ryouta standing at the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, with a straight face. It was unlike him, he usually had a bright smile plastered onto his face, combined with the bruises and scraped he often got from running and playing around too much, you could already judge what type of person Ryouta was.

His relationship with Ryouta was the far most developed one he had within the kids of the orphanage, a close acquaintanceship. They can both rant out to each other with no boundaries, talk about their fears and interests in god knows how long of a paragraph they could blabber out, and just.. be themselves around each other, with no second thoughts. They didn’t actively seek each other out, they didn’t do any small talk, and they didn’t openly hang out. They were just... there whenever they needed each other.

He was lucky to have met Ryouta.

But he didn’t know how had met Ryouta, and how they became acquaintances, but he could only speculate and theorize, maybe it was because of the fact that potential families were both driven away by both of them? Him being too quiet, and Ryouta being too outspoken. Or maybe because next to himself, Ryouta had the next highest return rate, but it stood no chance against Hitoshi’s though, that was the one thing where Hitoshi would be rewarded first place.

Ryouta tched as he shuffled his hand around his pocket, fishing out a piece of paper, and handing it over to Hitoshi, saying. “Here’s my number, in case you ever get a phone, or whatever.” He grumbled. Ryouta always sulked whenever Hitoshi would get ‘adopted,’ but this was the first time he had handed something over to him. Like he expected Hitoshi to actually stay in said adopted family.

Hitoshi looked at the piece of paper in his hand with furrowed brows, and looked up at Ryouta. “Since when did you get a phone?”

“I save up, you know!”

Content with the taller boy’s answer, Hitoshi pocketed the paper in his pocket, before bidding his goodbye at Ryouta. But before he could exit the room, Ryouta held him back, and with a soft, low tone, he said. “If you change, Hitoshi. I don’t care, you hear me? Just.. please remember me, all right?”

He was confused, of course, but he nodded along, thinking of the other boy's words as he was let out, walking downstairs with all of his bags on him. He waved his farewell to the kids and workers, and he swears he saw Miya wipe off a tear from her eyes, but he pays no mind to it, walking out of the building, the man holding his suitcase out of courtesy, Hitoshi presumed.

Now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t even know their names. Did Miya ever tell them? Did  _they_ even tell their names? Panic surged through Hitoshi once a fancy black car pulled up in front of the orphanage. Did he just get adopted by the Yakuza?!

They didn’t notice though, since he was standing in front of them, they couldn’t see his look of pure terror as darkness overcame the ground around them. Night fell already, and things weren’t looking good in Hitoshi’s unusually mature 10 year old mind. If they weren’t the Yakuza, could they be human traffickers? Are they going to harvest his organs and leave him for dead? He needs to find the nearest phone booth, quickly.

He was being pushed, oh god they were pushing him towards the sleek black car with completely tinted windows. Is this how he was going to die? He was wondering why his life wasn’t flashing before his eyes, he wanted to experience that because of how much times it was brought up in books. A raspy laugh escaped from his lips before he could stop it, causing both the attention of the adults to be put on him.

He promptly collapsed on his knees, hands to his head, and he pulled at his hair. Desperate to get a feeling inside of him that wasn’t fear or terror. He could hear them calling out his name, but the ringing in his ears proceeded to grow louder, and tears started to well up in his eyes.

He was going to die, he felt like he was dying right now, actually. And he wanted it all to end, he didn’t want to be here, he wants to go back to his bed, hug his stuffed penguin and cat in his arms, and drift off into sleep, not here, crouched on the pavement, ripping out strands of hair from his scalp, and balling his eyes out.

That was when a voice entered into his headspace, it was the same, soft voice and concerned tone that made him feel at peace, quietly calling out his name in hushed whispers and calls. By the time his heart felt like it wasn’t going to break out of inside his rib cage, the voice asked. “Is it okay for me to hold you, Hitoshi?”

He nodded, and felt warmth cover his small, underweight body, and he heard the heartbeat of the person in his ears, his own couldn’t help but follow the rhythm. “Shh... it’s all going to be okay, I’m here, I’m here...” she called out. Hitoshi couldn’t tell, but the man had joined in with the comforting, sitting on the concrete, drawing circles on his back while humming a nice tune.

Minutes pass by, and he was brought back down to Earth. He tried to wipe away his own tears, but the woman beat him to it, softly swiping her thumb to wipe them away. The words slipped out his mouth before he realized it, “I’m sorry...”

The look of shock on the woman’s face made him realize he may have said the wrong thing, “Why do you feel the need to say sorry, Hitoshi?” She asked. He hiccuped and mumbled, “I’m being difficult.. you’re going to return me, aren’t you?” Hitoshi couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle at the end of his statement. It hadn’t even been an hour, and he was already going back. That’s a new record.

The silence that overtook the couple was deafening, like they were trying to sing a song they didn’t know the words to, that is until the man broke the silence, “Why would we do that?” He asked that in such a horrified voice that it even broke Hitoshi’s heart to hear it.

Before Hitoshi could answer, the woman’s hands gently cupped his cheeks, and looked directly into his eyes with such sincerity, it made him squirm. “We are not going to return you, I promise. Now, let’s go home, yeah?”

He nodded, and the woman’s hands let go of his face. He proceeded to wipe away at his red, puffy eyes with the sleeves of his sweater, and the man softly grabbed his hand, leading him towards the vehicle, where another male, the driver, took all their bags and put it inside the car. From up this close, the car obviously looked expensive, just who were these people?

Taking the window seat of the car, he looked back at the orphanage with sore eyes as he mentally said his goodbyes to everyone he could remember, and the car started up. With the man sitting at the passenger seat, and the woman right beside of him. He doesn’t register the fact that they were already leaving, and towards the couple’s house, and Hitoshi wondered. What did their house look like? What were they like in a home setting? Did he have any siblings?

As he continued to daydream, he doesn’t realize that they were pulling up in front of a  _mansion’s_ gates, and they were being  _let in_ . With shaky legs, he got out of the car, and gaped at the large entrance doors, and he heard the woman giggle while the man and the driver pulled out his bags from the trunk of the car. He slowly turned towards them with wide eyes.

“Are you Yakuza?” He muttered with a frightened grin on his face, they all momentarily froze for a moment, and then laughed. He didn’t know if that was a yes or a no, and he was getting anxious, absentmindedly tugging at his sweater sleeves again, like he was expecting a knife to magically come out from his sleeve, and immobilize them while escaping as quick as he can.

The man shook his head with a small smile on his face, “We’re not Yakuza, kid.” He smiled, first at him, then at the lady. The driver only had a slightly amused smile on his face as he pulls away, parking the car in the fairly far off garage that was nearly the size of the orphanage itself. But that wasn’t Hitoshi’s center of focus right now, right now, it was on the two people in front of him, smiling at him like he was joking. He wasn’t, and he wanted to know what was going on before his mind breaks.

“Who are you?” Hitoshi said with a shakey voice and trembling hands.

The woman knelt down to his level, tucking the loose strand of hair behind his ear, and the male followed suite. It was like they weren’t trying to overwhelm him by towering over him, and Hitoshi felt this, and it warmed his heart.

“I’m Amashi Kogeki, and this is my husband, Hayari Kogeki. And we’re your new family now.”

Maybe Lady Luck was on his side, but going in on her own way.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it to the end of this work, kudos and comments are appreciated, because they keep me motivated and such! Constructive criticism is also very welcome :)


End file.
